


epistemophilia

by thingswithwings



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Sex Education, risotto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2386130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cecil," he calls, because Cecil is in the kitchen making them dinner.  "Would you like to participate in the high school sex ed program this year?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	epistemophilia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wintercreek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/gifts).



> A little prompt-fic! Written for wintercreek, who suggested "Cecil/Carlos, sex ed."
> 
> Includes discussion of having sex in front of teenagers.

Carlos frowns down at the very official-looking piece of paper in his hands. He's always liked official-looking things, liked the seriousness they tended to convey. But then, in Night Vale, one can occasionally receive a Request to Relinquish a Known Mechanical Pencil on rolled-up parchment signed with blood and runes, so official-looking documents aren't quite the thrill they once were. Still, even if it's a pencil relinquishment request, it bears reading, so Carlos nods at the raven to give it leave to return to the post office, then unrolls the paper.

It takes him a moment to put together the words that swim in front of him. When he does, he blinks, just to make sure he hasn't put them in the wrong order.

"Cecil," he calls, because Cecil is in the kitchen making them dinner. "Would you like to participate in the high school sex ed program this year?"

A be-aproned Cecil is immediately standing next to him, despite the fact that not ten minutes ago he swore he couldn't leave the risotto alone. 

"What?" he asks, in a voice that's nearing a shriek. "Oh god." He snatches the paper from Carlos's hands and scans it quickly. None of the signatures on it are signed in blood, but Carlos does notice some blood on the back of the paper. The perils of corresponding with high school administrators, Carlos supposes.

"I assume they want a scientific speaker," Carlos says. "I'm not sure why they invited you, though – maybe to model gay relationships for the kids?"

Cecil puts the paper down on the little table near the door and cocks his head carefully at Carlos. His brown eyes are wide and his hands intentionally still at his sides. It's the look he always gets when he's preparing himself to listen to Carlos's bizarre and incomprehensible social customs, like using spoons or mowing the lawn. It's his listening face.

Cecil's come around on him mowing the lawn, though, since Carlos explained the theory. Now he's very into it, and has taken to planting strange quick-growing grasses and hiding Carlos's shirts whenever he's in the right mood.

Carlos doesn't mind. At least it shows he's really listening when Carlos explains their cultural differences.

"Carlos," Cecil says slowly, "what kinds of things were you taught in sex ed?"

Carlos thinks back. "How to use a condom. What diseases you could catch. How to prevent pregnancy. It was very heteronormative, but it could've been worse. Is Night Vale abstinence-only or something?" Even as he says it, Carlos feels pretty sure that's not the problem. As usual, in Night Vale, the problem is probably something he doesn't even have a framework for conceptualizing yet. 

It's the best thing about Night Vale, really.

"Well, abstinence _is_ the only ethical choice for those of us who must immediately devour their partners upon copulation," Cecil sighs, "not that you can tell teenagers anything these days. They're going to do what their raging hormones and the subterranean gods tell them to do. But no, I meant – did you have any hands-on demonstrations?"

"Hands-on," Carlos repeats.

"You know, an altar set up at the front of the room, someone comes in and shows the kids how to perform an erotic sacrifice or give someone an orgasm, that kind of thing." Cecil's head is still cocked, and he's watching Carlos carefully. Carlos is pretty sure he's got his surprised face on.

"They want us to – demonstrate. In person. With our clothes off."

"Depending on the act, but yes, nakedness is usually helpful for the children." Cecil frowns. "I suppose you want to go and do it," he mutters. 

"I – " Carlos doesn't even know where to begin. He's a little distracted by the image, him and Cecil in front of a classroom, naked, fucking over the teacher's desk. Cecil gasping, gripping the wood tight under his fingers, while explaining the prostate to sixteen year olds.

"I understand, you're a scientist, you believe in education and all that," Cecil sighs. "But listen, Carlos, I hope you'll reconsider your position."

"A scientist _is_ always in favor of education," Carlos murmurs, in part because he's a little intrigued, and in part because Cecil is cute when he's trying not to argue against science.

"Oh, of course," Cecil says quickly. "I didn't mean to imply that a scientist _wasn't_ , I just wonder if it's the right choice for, for _this_ scientist. Um. You."

Carlos takes a step closer to Cecil, bringing them almost chest-to-chest. Cecil's tied the apron string behind his neck into a little bow. It reminds Carlos of the way Cecil sometimes dots the I in his name, with a heart or an apple or a tiny medusa-head.

Carlos reaches back and pulls it free, so that the apron falls down Cecil's chest to his waist. "And there's so much we could show them," he says softly. He peels off Cecil's t-shirt. Cecil raises his arms and lets him do it, wide-eyed, breathing quickly. "Like how you react when I touch you here." He thumbs Cecil's nipple carefully, slowly, like he might if he were demonstrating the technique for a beginner.

"It – it would be a good thing to learn," Cecil says. Carlos smiles. Reaching down, he takes Cecil's ass in his hands and lifts him up, pulling him snug against him and holding him off the ground. Cecil's right leg wraps around Carlos's waist and grips strongly, and with his left he hooks his prosthetic around Carlos's knee.

Carlos kisses him hungrily, loving the feel of him, the smell of him, the way he arches so easily under Carlos's touch. When they break apart, Cecil is panting with desire, groaning as he rolls forward to rest his head on Carlos's shoulder.

"Carlos," he says. "I know how much you care about science, but I just don't think I can go up in front of those kids and fuck you, or suck you, or let you tear out my heart, or anything. I just can't, darling, can you forgive me?"

"I was just teasing," Carlos whispers into Cecil's ear, laughing. "I couldn't share you with them. Especially not the heart thing." They've only done the heart thing twice. It's intense. And scientifically fascinating. And so hot that Carlos can't stand it, Cecil's life small and fluttering, beating inside the cup of his palm.

"Oh, thank goodness," Cecil says.

"Though it is a very practical way of teaching sex ed," Carlos adds. "I wish other places in the country would follow suit." He lets Cecil down – Cecil's a lot smaller than he is, but he gains mass when he's turned on, a phenomenon Carlos has yet to investigate very thoroughly on account of how easily distracted he gets when Cecil's turned on. He pushes Cecil up against the wall instead, slipping a hand down into his pants.

"I can't deny the educational effect that just such a demonstration had on me as a young man," Cecil agrees, shoving his hips up against Carlos's touch. "Carlos, Carlos, the risotto is going to burn."

"Hmm," Carlos says, mouthing Cecil's neck. "Then I suppose you'd better go and stir it." He pushes Cecil away, half-naked and disheveled, and smacks him on the ass as he goes. Cecil gives him a look over his shoulder, half smoldering resentment and half smoldering . . . smolder. Cecil's generally just good at a smolder.

"But maybe we should practice, just in case," Cecil says, picking up his wooden spoon again. Carlos strolls up behind him, pressing his body up against Cecil's. It still feels like a gift, to be able to do this, no matter how many nights he's spent with Cecil in his arms.

"I could teach you all the scientific names for things," Carlos suggests shyly. "For the things we do. The physical processes."

"Could you," Cecil asks, turning his head enough to kiss Carlos on the cheek. "Could you describe it all in detail? Tell me how the muscles and the blood and the heat all move together? Teach me why it feels so good when you touch me?"

"I could try," Carlos says. "I'd like to try." He bends to bite at Cecil's ear, to suck at the spot just behind it. Cecil shivers beneath him, a reaction that Carlos could study forever.

"The kids won't know what they're missing," Cecil mutters, and his hand shakes where it grips the spoon.

Carlos breathes against Cecil's skin and sets about trying to replicate his results.


End file.
